


The Light that keeps me Trusting

by forlornwind



Series: Festival of Rarepairs [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 5 years after the Fourth Shinobi War, Anal Sex, Body Image, Hand Jobs, M/M, Slow Build, hints of past unhealthy HashiMada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornwind/pseuds/forlornwind
Summary: What was supposed to be a quiet night during the Winter Solstice turns into a painful moment for Madara when his episodes of pain strike violently. Jiraiya is patient as he nurses both their souls… and a few days later, the reward is better than good and Jiraiya finds out about Madara’s birthday in the most… sensual of ways.[took me 6 hours to finish this, please give this rarepair a chance :) it is built upon Tumblr roleplaying relationship]





	

**Author's Note:**

> You may wish to read [this](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/muse) to understand post-war Madara context. The Jiraiya in this story is heavily inspired by [Nikki’s zilaiyc](http://zilaiyc.tumblr.com/). You may also want to read on [how Jiraiya and Madara met](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/tagged/rp%3A-redemption/chrono) (roleplay thread still ongoing)

The night of the Winter Solstice was… _painful_ , for lack of a better word. They had been just enjoying a pot of hot tea, sitting on the roof of the main house, and gazing up at the half moon intertwined in the warmth of each other’s arms.

Then the pains had struck after that unfortunate hour…

> Madara thrashed violently, trying to get away from Jiraiya’s desperate arms. He heard little as the ache in his chest rang in his ears, save for the sound of ceramic crashing to the ground and his lover’s hurried words, _'Madara, Madara! Come here, please, it’s okay. I’m here, don’t go away from me.'_
> 
> Needless to say, the roof was not the best place to nurse brutal, phantom chest pains and it took all of Jiraiya’s strength and love to keep them from meeting the same fate as the tea pot that had fallen off.
> 
> After he managed to locked Madara’s arms with his own, Jiraiya carried the raven into their shared room and patiently soothed Madara’s pains while fighting off a pair of hands that threatened to claw or push away. It took **hours** for Madara to calm down and will himself into a weary sleep full of cold sweat and scared breaths, _'Don’t kill me.. Don’t kill me, please!'_ Madara’s nightmares were relentless… a dreadful time for a day that should have been the pride of the Uchiha Clan… Jiraiya persevered, though. He stayed by Madara’s side for as long as it took his lover to quiet and calm.

Needless to say, he didn’t sleep at all that night.

Madara did not get much sleep either, for he had woken up way too soon for Jiraiya’s taste and refused to go back to bed, arguing that the sun had already risen and the day upon them. Madara also refused Jiraiya’s touch for the entirety of the day and had been cranky, restless, and frustrated with himself. The anguish of fire was palpable in the air even when Madara seemed calm, going about his usual work in the beautiful gardens of the rebuilt Uchiha Compound. Even the spring waters must have been a full ten degrees higher at how Madara was seething internally... ...

Jiraiya had to withhold his tongue of course, words of longing and love threatening to spill from his throat every time he saw that distinct _‘You’re not trying hard enough!’_ pout from Madara, or when he had kindly passed his lover something but Madara only snatched it out of his hands as if he didn’t want to stay a second longer by Jiraiya’s side... it hurt. It hurt Jiraiya very much. As if it was his heart that had been torn in half instead of Madara’s... but no, that wasn’t it was it? Madara’s the one hurting, or perhaps they were both hurting... only that Madara was the more expressive one of it.

 **(** _yeah, there were times Jiraiya doubted if their relationship was strong enough to pull through such ordeals... Madara had spent five years alone in the compound after all, and Jiraiya was just an anomaly, a crack in Madara’s perfect schedule and routines..._   **)**

He knew that Madara could go on a whole week of self blame if a word was spoken wrongly, or deemed _‘too insensitive’_ by the **very sensitive** Uchiha. Better to let Madara make his own choices then... Jiraiya himself was love-starved, all manner of bone-crushing tired, and had to excuse himself halfway through the evening so that he could rest his soul away from the active volcano that was Madara.

Another morning was soon upon them, and Madara... well, Madara was starting to feel the crawling of guilt in his system and veins when he did not sense Jiraiya’s all-encompassing presence when he woke. Not to mention... that it was the 24th. His birthday.

And he had wanted to give Jiraiya a present... **(** _[a weird tradition of his](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/post/154895354050/proper-headcanon-post-6-birthdays-aka)_ **)** but the man was not here this morning. Madara tries not to think about it... he tries. Madara downs a fifth cup of tea while he waits at the front visiting room. He could see the entrance clearly from here, vines of lavender and sunflowers crowding cute fences that did nothing to keep anyone out. They were there merely for aesthetic purposes and crafted for the sake of passing time.

Oh boy, did time pass slowly this morning. Agonising slowly. It contrasts with the lightning he has for thoughts.

Ah... but it wasn’t his fault, was it? These pains, his overwhelming emotions, they were things he couldn’t control. Or perhaps, he didn’t want to control them. Well then, it was his fault after all, aye?

That thought earns the table a soft thud as he dipped his head to meet the wood in resignation. Now all Madara could do was clutch the wrapped book close to his chest and pray with all his might that all was not lost... and that the sickening wetness on his cheeks were not tears that would inevitably stain the parchment keeping Jiraiya’s gift clean and safe from his emotional tendencies...

Madara knocked his forehead on the low table for awhile; His guilt, his frustrations, eating away at whatever the hell was left of his heart. Each passing moment with Jiraiya not here, Madara felt like he wanted to roll off the face of the earth and shatter himself like a meaningless, helpless, useless tea pot.

His eyes were sore now. Not too much, but just enough to remind him that Jiraiya wasn’t here. A little weariness came into his spirit and Madara’s eyelids slowly close while he rested his head on the table. Arms still hug Jiraiya’s gift --the wrapped book-- closely and tightly to his chest. Madara fell into a light sleep while his lips whispered the sad tune of "Please.." _make him come back_.

.

..

...

Strong, calloused fingers card through black tresses of hair, warm and soft as wolf’s fur although thick as a lion’s mane. Jiraiya smoothed down long spiky curls to watch them spring up again. His chest quaked slightly with a silent smile. Only his lover could have both soft, thick, yet still untamed hair, he thinks.

It must be the hand-made soaps that Madara took time to make and stock up. As far as Jiraiya knew, Madara’s insanely large garden produced all the ingredients needed. But he’s not going to memorise which plant corresponded to which coloured soap bar. There were far too many. His lover tended to do everything perfectly, making a whole set each batch, twelve distinct colours and at least seven tones for each colour... how Madara did it, or how Madara even has the patience to repeat the process every month, Jiraiya could only attribute it to his lover’s traditional inner.

 **(** _here Jiraiya thinks that the lack of Madara’s attention during “gardening time” was more a gift than a test of his patience, because it gave Madara such good hair. but in all other times, it was truly a test of his patience. a test he sometimes fails..._   **)**

Madara stirs, brows creasing a little as if he was reproaching Jiraiya for taking such liberties in touching him like that. It was a very cute sight and Jiraiya could not help but lean closer to bury his nose in Madara’s hair... who could blame him, really? Madara being incredibly docile in the moment, not yet fully woken from the intrusion, and so obviously preoccupied with planting a cheek on the table. Of course Jiraiya takes advantage of this... Madara was a light sleeper, he knows, and this was his way of waking up his lover without making too much noise. Surely, his own chakra was singing by now. However, Madara could take all the time in the world.

Finally, his lover shows some actual movement... and that was when Jiraiya noticed the distinct brown parchment against the background that was Madara’s dark robes. It was hard to make out what it is that Madara clutched so tightly with both hands.

       “My... and what do we have here?”

Jiraiya’s voice was not loud, just enough for the space between them. It was full of mirth and curiousity, though. That tickles Madara’s soul, he found. And he knows that his lover will answer his vague question soon.

       “Mm..”

Madara flutters his eyes open, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep. His sensory perception had woken up way before his physical self did and he had waited  **all day** to even think of rejecting Jiraiya right now.

So all Madara did was move his whole body and gave Jiraiya’s opened arms a strong headbutt, burying himself into cloth and rubbing his hair softly against Jiraiya’s chin. “You’re back..” Madara sighs softly.

Jiraiya catches the very slight, however masked, sadness in Madara’s tone. His legs open slightly and he slides Madara against his chest... then he notices how red the side of his lover’s eyes were.

Madara had been crying while he was gone... how could he had let Madara’s self-blame fester until it got to this stage?

Damn his mortal drawbacks! “Everything is okay, Madara.” Jiraiya cooed as Madara settles a cheek on his shoulder. There was no reaction, and Madara does not let go of the wrapped item he was holding. So Jiraiya tries again. “We all have learning curves.” _and yours is just steeper than most_.

Jiraiya feels a sharp, singular intake of breath, leaving his neck cool before warm air again filled the space between them. He has learned Madara’s signals by now. The man had many quirks, many buttons, many fault lines, and twice as many landmines all over his body within 5 metres. Jiraiya has learned all of it, and will continue to learn more. “I will not abandon you.” _my love.._

When Madara finally let go of the wrapped item and snaked an arm around his hips, Jiraiya himself let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “We’re okay.” he uttered once more, to reassure himself really. It scares him sometimes, how fragile this warrior really is, and scarier still must be the past that crushed Madara to become this emotionally scarred kitten in his arms.

 **(** _it also burns him with searing, violent anger when he guessed just **who** was the one who had an excruciating chain around Madara’s neck, so much so that it left permanent spiritual welds that took so painfully long to heal, yet disappointingly easy to re-open._ **)**

       “Jiraiya?”

Madara’s questioning voice pulls him out of his turbulent thoughts. “Hm?” he answers softly as Madara pulls back from his arms. The sad furrow of his brows was both a tease and a real longing for the warmth back again.

Until Madara held out what seemed like a wrapped gift... for him.

Jiraiya was... surprised, for one. And **incredibly honoured**... many festive events they had passed together by now, but not once did Madara got him anything, not even well wishes. He always saw his lover as someone who did not put too much thought into _'special occasions’_. When Jiraiya had first gave Madara something on New Yea’s Eve, the man had been evidently upset about it too, saying about how Jiraiya didn’t _need_ to.

 **(** _Madara really was trying to say, in so many unrelated words, that he himself didn’t come up with a gift and so was not worthy of such._ **)**

Anyway! The fact that _Madara_ was giving him something, must point to the fact that: Either the Winter Solstice was such an important occasion above all others, or that there was some other underlying reason that Madara hasn’t --or doesn’t want to-- tell him.

**Yet.**

Jiraiya was totally gonna make Madara spill the beans. By force if he has to.

No... **No no no**. Not by force. _Control yourself, Jiraiya_ , his brain told his heart.

       “Why are you getting so excited, It’s just a b—”

       “A book, I know.”

He doesn’t, not really, but he could only guess as he took it from Madara’s hands and set it on the table. It was heavy, maybe historical, or literature. Maybe it was about gardening. But damn it all, damn it all!

Jiraiya growled and almost attacked Madara by lunging forward and pushing his lover towards the ground. One of his hand rested on Madara’s back to cushion his unbridled desire and he was rewarded with muscular arms suddenly clinging upon his neck and big, black eyes staring up at him in shock and amusement.

       “You can’t be _that_ excited, Jiraiya...”

 _Oh this cheater_ , he thought. Madara could be such a cheater. With all the raven’s skills in sensing, how could Madara still voice such a teasing thought?

       “But I am **starving** , Madara.”

A lick of his lips and a glance at the want in Madara’s eyes that reflected his own desires, and Jiraiya was diving down to have a little taste of dry lips. He ran a tongue over those precious flaps, he wet them with his own and slowly sealed their mouths together in a hot interlocking war of tongue, teeth, and every thing else in between.

Therein he felt the exact possessiveness of Madara... his warrior returned to him fully, pushing against his tongue and sinking wanting fingers into his olive robes.

Robes that he wants off. From the both of them if he could help it.

       “Madara..” reluctantly Jiraiya pulled away with a loud sucking sound. “I want to love you. May I?” he asked gently, lacking in the force of their kiss but oh, he would make up for it in all fierceness of passion if only he got Madara’s permission. He wanted.. no, **needed** to know if this was what Madara wanted as well. Jiraiya needed to be **sure** that his own desires were not merely stringing Madara’s senses along... he wouldn’t take advantage of Madara’s openness in this moment like that.

So Jiraiya waits patiently, even though his aching member was straining against his trousers. Jiraiya waits until Madara has made a sure decision.

This was the measure of love Jiraiya has for Uchiha Madara; that he would sacrifice his own if only to make Madara comfortable, to make Madara forget the pain of his past...

And the agreement came in a breathless, almost inaudible sound if one was not patient and silent enough to hear it...

       “Yeah..”

That simple syllable drew a lasting smile from Jiraiya’s lips as he gazed deeply into Madara’s eyes for awhile... His eyes held both respect and desire, love and gratitude... Slowly, so as to not alarm his soft lover, Jiraiya began to loosen Madara’s robes, starting with the grey sash.

Madara’s skin was uncannily soft despite the patches of white Zetsu matter. The robes fell easily away from the top half of his body... and Madara had looked away for awhile. Jiraiya feels the trepidation, so he doesn’t stare very long and instead, sought to place soft, lingering kisses on the crook of Madara’s neck. _'You’re fine.'_ they said.  _'You’ll always be fine in my eyes.’_

The corner of his eyes caught the slight tugging smile on Madara’s cheeks, and so Jiraiya came up again to catch that mouth in a slow and sensual kiss, massaging his lover’s lips with his own as he shrugged both of them out of their robes.

His hands first busied themselves with arranging Madara’s dark navy clothing behind the raven as he slowly pushed his lover’s back down on to the floor, so that Madara could rest on the robes instead of the wooden ground. Jiraiya’s own robes were folded not-quite-neatly as he placed it at Madara’s neck.

       “D-Don’t stare at me...”

Came a whine from Madara’s throat, and Jiraiya immediately caught himself.

       “I’m sorry.” _you’re just so beautiful..._

It would be awhile before Jiraiya could teach Madara how to love one’s own body even if it was not one’s entirely... but today, it was not a time of lesson, but a time of pure, passionate love.

Jiraiya dipped down again and plastered their bodies together. His larger, more muscular frame shielding and protecting the leaner body of his lover. They fitted so perfectly, and the hot moan that came from Madara’s mouth when their cocks slid against each other was even more perfect still...

Jiraiya moved slowly and in sync with the pleasant sounds coming from his lover. Madara’s neck arched as rising heat shot a lightning of pleasure through his spine, and he answered Jiraiya with a light thrust of his hips. He wanted more of the friction, and so moved in rhythm with Jiraiya, feeling the hard cock against his own. Soon, his hands wrapped themselves around Jiraiya’s neck as he clung to the man. Madara felt some of his seed spilling warmly from his cock, and Jiraiya’s large hand snaking between their hips to grab both their members, coaxing more and more cum from Madara.

Their mouths soon meet again, noisily and passionately, all manner of hygiene out the window as their tongues caught each other in open, sloppy kisses. Jiraiya’s thumb ran over the head of Madara’s cock, earning a pleased ‘Ah!’ from his lover. A sound that increased his pace of stroking their cocks together, and encouraged a finger to quest for Madara’s tight entrance.

Feeling another hand between them, Madara widened his thighs to give Jiraiya space and smiled into the kiss. The finger that entered him made him break the kiss panting, which only increased as Jiraiya stretched him with another finger.

Jiraiya watches all the expressions his lover was making as he fucked Madara with two fingers. Deeper and harder they went, in and out, trying to find that sweet spot that would make Madara’s cock spill even more cum.

       “Fuck!”

Madara yelped as a hand shot up to cover his eyes, his hips arching in time to for his cock to spill out more white, hot seed. Ah, Jiraiya has found it... and this glorious sight has him unsheathing his fingers abruptly. He coated them in Madara’s cum and brought them to his mouth, licking and tasting sensually as his lover peeked at him through the hand over the raven’s eyes. _Madara was embarrassed._

       “Jiraiya, come on... ...”

Madara bit his lips at the sight as he stopped covering his eyes. His hole was also missing the warmth and his eyes glared hungrily at Jiraiya’s fingers.

       “P-Put them... back...”

Yep. Too embarrassed to say  _‘finger me again.’_ Jiraiya’s cunning smile told him _‘how about no’_ and Madara pouted.... until Jiraiya slowly rose and canted Madara’s hips up.

He swallowed a breath and his lips parted as Jiraiya slowly sheathed himself into the hole where two fingers once quested. Madara was grateful for the navy robes he laid upon --how thoughtful of Jiraiya-- for Madara was now pushing against the wooden floor as Jiraiya started to move...

It was a sight. Panting with heavy breath, Madara watched as Jiraiya’s cock disappeared into him again and again as the larger man thrust into his confines. Jiraiya was increasing his pace and force as his cock looked for Madara’s sweet spot again. When he found it, and when Madara moaned evidently, Jiraiya slammed his cock against the organ and stopped, plastering it there for a long, long while as he dived down to catch Madara’s gaping mouth in a fierce kiss.

Undignified whines were silenced by Jiraiya’s mouth as he purposefully rubbed his cock against Madara’s prostate, wanting the friction and the pleasure to last as long as possible.

       “Say it.”

Jiraiya ordered once after he pulled away from the kiss momentarily before sealing their lips together again, silencing the ‘What..?’ of Madara’s.

Ah, right, he should let go Madara’s mouth if he wanted an actual answer. And let go he did as he rose up, supporting Madara’s legs that were dangling over his strong arms.

       “What’s the gift for.”

It was not a question... and of course Madara looked away and did not want to answer it.

Jiraiya pulled out slowly, then slammed his cock deeply into Madara again. The force of it had himself crashing down onto Madara again as his lover yelled a moan full of pain and pleasure.

       “What’s. The. Gift. For.”

Against Madara’s ear, his tone was a mix of a growl, commanding and forceful, but also that of a desperate _plea_... he wants to know. Jiraiya wants to know **everything** about Madara, so that he could know the best and most efficient way to further pull his lover out of the shell of pain Madara seemed so **STUPIDLY** addicted to. Jiraiya wants to get the leash off of Madara. There should not be any chain on his lover, especially one still held by a man who was supposed to be dead for fucking centuries....

       “Are you really that angry... It’s...  
        It’s my birthday, Jiraiya. It’s just my birthday.”

_What...?_

_What what what..... ?_

       “Why the hell are you giving me something on **YOUR** birthday?  
        And what do you mean it’s _just_ your birthday?!”

This was the _worst_ time to argue with Madara, but oh Jiraiya could not control his joy and sadness and a whole other plethora of emotions he could not voice. _Of course it had to be Madara’s birthday...!_ The two of them had gone through a whole year and not once did he dare to ask... and now it was offered to him... and how preciously he shall hold this information in his heart!

       “The 24th. Exactly?” he asked again to be sure.

       “Yes. Y-you’re still in me, you know...”

 _‘God dammit!’_ thought Jiraiya as he sealed their lips together again, happy tears escaping his eyes. “I will remember it.” he said, pulling away to gaze into Madara’s eyes, his mind forming an unspoken covenant. “I will remember it for the rest of your life, the rest of my life, and the rest of our lives. Your... Your existence has brought me so much fulfillment, Madara, and I wish that I can celebrate many, many birthdays with you.”

       “It’s my birthday, and _you’re_ wishing...”

       “It’s your birthday, and you gave _me_ a gift...”

And that concedes the argument from Madara’s side. He stared up at Jiraiya blissfully, onyx eyes looking upon the flushed and pleasant face of his lover as two souls danced sensually in passion, the light of the morning flooding into their room gradually...

Their love-making became slower, Jiraiya wanting to make this special day last as long as possible. His mind was also distracted at everything he would do with Madara today. Perhaps they can go fishing later, or perhaps he could find a different sort of patience within himself to hear how Madara made those soap bars that avowed such beautiful hair... he giggled at that, and held Madara close to him once more.

 

He never wants to let go.

 

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and for giving JiraMada a chance :D Browse their ship tag: [Pristine Tales and Fresh Promises](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/tagged/otp-%E2%9E%B8-%E1%B4%A9%CA%80%C9%AA%EA%9C%B1%E1%B4%9B%C9%AA%C9%B4%E1%B4%87-%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%80%CA%9F%E1%B4%87%EA%9C%B1-%E1%B4%80%C9%B4%E1%B4%85-%EA%9C%B0%CA%80%E1%B4%87%EA%9C%B1%CA%9C-%E1%B4%A9%CA%80%E1%B4%8F%E1%B4%8D%C9%AA%EA%9C%B1%E1%B4%87%EA%9C%B1-%5B-jiramada-%7C-zilaiyc-%5D)
> 
> [Reblog on Tumblr](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/post/154932203400/the-light-that-keeps-me-trusting) | [All FanFiction](http://forlornwind.tumblr.com/listing)


End file.
